


See The Blue Centerlight Pop

by donnersun



Series: Roman Candles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Magic, Marijuana, Shotgunning, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:10:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnersun/pseuds/donnersun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes when Stiles lets his guard down or concentrates on something too hard his magic escapes him, leaking out and littering the air with vibrations that turn blue and purple as the energy plays itself out.</p><p>Or, conversely: In which Stiles gets the good stuff from Deaton and magic sex makes Derek's fangs come out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See The Blue Centerlight Pop

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, sapphirescribe and sadt for encouraging me to get my shit together and actually finish something for a change (and for the beta!). I PROMISE I will finish wolf!Derek next.

The heat swirls around them, coming alive as the sun starts to sink into the ocean and a breeze kicks up off the waves. Derek feels the kind of tired that comes with swimming against the current all day; he’s lazy and content and his muscles actually ache for the first time in years. Stiles is hunched over the rickety old picnic table on the front porch, naked from the waist up, his skin glowing a bit from either sweat or magic, Derek isn’t sure. Sometimes when Stiles lets his guard down or concentrates on something too hard his magic escapes him, leaking out and littering the air with vibrations that turn blue and purple as the energy plays itself out. 

Derek watches as Stiles’ rolls the joint, his fingers seemingly on auto-pilot as he crumbles the soft herb into the paper and then rolls it expertly between his thumb and pointer finger, his bottom lip turning red from where he’s biting down on it in concentration. When he’s satisfied, he brings it up to his mouth, licks a stripe across the seam, and Derek groans. Stiles doesn’t look up, but the vibrations from his magic fan out and begin licking at the edges of Derek, playful and warm. Derek can’t help the subvocal rumble that starts deep in his belly and matches the cadence of the magic. 

“I felt that,” Stiles laughs, snapping Derek out of his trance. 

“You tickled me,” Derek grunts, shoving at Stiles’ thigh. Stiles wraps a hand around his ankle and squeezes as he reaches for the lighter. Derek crinkles his nose as the flame hits paper, but relaxes again after the weed starts burning. Stiles inhales deeply and smiles, rubbing his thumb up and down the arch of Derek’s foot several times before exhaling slowly. Derek takes the joint from his outstretched hand and brings it to his lips. Werewolves can’t get high unless the weed is really strong but Derek could sometimes get a small buzz going. Either way, he liked the way it tasted and the way it stretched and burned his lungs. 

“The way you exhale is indecent,” Stiles says, his voice full of gravel and heat. 

“Sorry?” Derek answers back, his mouth quirking up into a grin. 

“Asshole,” Stiles huff-laughs before pulling on the joint again. He holds his breath as he sets it down on the edge of the ashtray and then crawls across the bench and into Derek’s lap. He skims his hands up both sides of Derek’s face and tangles them in his short hair as he grinds down and pulls Derek’s lips to his, exhaling into Derek’s mouth with a groan. Derek sucks and swallows the smoke, his hands dropping into the back of Stiles’ shorts. 

“Shiiiiiiiit,” Derek says as he blows out the smoke above their heads, leaning back and watching as it swirls around the blues and purples of Stiles’ magic. Stiles leans forward and licks up Derek’s neck, across his Adam’s apple and and along his jawline. 

“I wanna fuck you,” he groans into Derek’s ear. 

Derek growls and stands up, bringing Stiles with him as he bumps the screen door open with his toe and walks them backwards into the house. Stiles is licking into his mouth filthily, his hands still pulling at Derek’s hair and his thighs clenching around his middle. 

“Bed, Derek, bed,” Stiles pants, pulling away to catch his breath. His magic is bouncing all around them, bright pops of color and spark swirling and vibrating in the air. Derek nearly crashes into the doorframe but deposits Stiles safely onto the bed before literally ripping at his shorts. His canines pop out as Stiles arches up, hissing as the cooler air of the bedroom hits his sensitive dick. Derek quickly gets out of his own shorts and then launches himself at Stiles, flipping them over so that Stiles is straddling him. Stiles wraps a hand around Derek’s dick and twists up around the head, smearing precum all over before reaching down and teasing Derek’s hole. 

“Stiles, please,” Derek begs as hips flex up involuntarily, searching for Stiles’ fingers. 

“I’ve got you. Stop,” Stiles shushes him, spreading his hand out over Derek’s belly. Derek can feel the hot pulse of energy and magic flowing from Stiles’ hand and he relaxes into it. 

Stiles smiles above him. “Good boy.” 

Derek bares his teeth a little at that, but Stiles just smiles with his whole body as he leans down and kisses Derek on the corner of his mouth. His hand slips back down and he circles Derek’s hole again, this time with pressure, and Derek whines and writhes underneath of him. Stiles leans back and looks down where he is so exposed and Derek can’t even pretend to turn red or feel embarrassed. He spreads his legs even further apart and presses down on Stiles’ fingers, three now, and melts into the stretch of it. He reaches for the lube and slicks Stiles’ dick up as Stiles continues to hook his fingers in and out, nearly reducing Derek to a quivering mess. 

“Okay, okay, now,” Derek grunts past his canines. He knows when his eyes bleed red because Stiles’ own eyes widen, a reaction that still happens years after Stiles has any reason to be afraid of Derek. It’s completely subconscious, Derek knows, but it still sends a shameful thrill through him.

“Fuck, I love you,” Stiles says as he rocks into Derek, burying himself deep and then stilling to catch his breath. 

“I love you too, but you really need to move.” 

Stiles laughs and twists his hips and electricity shoots from Derek’s toes to the very top of his head. He’s pretty sure they’re both lit up with magic now but he can’t focus on anything besides Stiles’ eyes above him. The amber of his irises is churning like waves and there are even tiny flecks of light in them too. Stiles sets a rhythm and Derek begins to fall to pieces, thrust by thrust. 

“You’re so good for me, Der. Fuck, I just can’t even...” Stiles’ words get bitten off with a moan as Derek surges up and licks a wide path across his collarbones and then latches onto his neck, sucking an angry red mark into the soft, pale skin right below Stiles’ ear. 

“Take me,” Derek growls as Stiles fists his dick and begins to jack him off in time to his thrusts. Derek collapses back and arches up into Stiles’ hand, his claws piercing through the sheets and into the mattress with a pop. 

“Don’t shred the bed,” Stiles gasps, “again.” 

The magic surges then, and Derek feels it settle into his muscles, his bones, his soul. He can feel the blue and he can taste the purple and it thrums through him with a purpose as his orgasm overtakes him and he explodes into Stiles’ hand. Some of it even hits his chin and Stiles doesn’t miss a beat as he leans down and licks it off. Derek is wrecked but he rumbles with satisfaction and can’t help but tighten around Stiles’ dick when he feels it start to pulse. Stiles stills for a second and then collapses onto Derek’s chest with a shudder. They lay like that, neither of them moving except for when the jolts of magic shoot through them, causing them both to shiver and clutch at each other. Stiles eventually slips out of Derek and rolls to the side, facing him with a giant, loopy grin. 

“Hey,” Derek says. 

“Hi,” Stiles grins back before ducking his head and scooting closer so that he’s tucked up under Derek’s chin. 

“Where the fuck did you get that weed?” Derek asks, scrubbing his hands across his face. 

Stiles laughs. “Right?! That shit was amazing. You’re kinda amazing too, though. Fifty-fifty.” Derek can feel him grinning against his chest. 

“You’re definitely not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” Derek replies, scooping Stiles into his arms and snuffling down into where his neck meets his shoulder. 

“No, that honor belongs to that one Christmas when you lost the bet and had to go have your picture taken with Santa at Petsmart. Remember how Lydia got you a jingle bell collar? Best Christmas ever.” 

“I rest my case,” Derek laughs. “Be useful and go get food and another joint.” 

Stiles groans but rolls out of bed, planting a kiss on Derek’s nose before padding out of the bedroom, leaving a trail of quiet, shimmering magic behind him. Derek burrows back into the bed, sinking into Stiles’ scent and going boneless as the energy envelopes him, licking up his legs and thighs, across his back and shoulders and then settling at the base of his neck, a warm and steady weight that matches the pulse of Stiles’ heartbeat.

**Author's Note:**

> NGL this story is totally set at my house. In North Carolina. No regrets. 
> 
> Come say hi on twitter! I'm @donnersun.


End file.
